Pieces
by Honeeym
Summary: 'Hey Witchy,' she heard from a distance. She shivered, failing to hold on to the stream of her thoughts. She kept on forgetting she was not alone. That she would never be. 'Damon,' she acknowledged neutrally. - Glimpses into Damon and Bonnie's existence after the events of 5x22.
1. Hic et Nunc

**Hic Et Nunc**

Silence.

It had been Bonnie's refuge when she was alive and it still was. Silence here was unnatural because it was absolute. Inescapable and whole, it was like an entity of its own that engaged her to search for something more. Solace. Peace. She found it pretentious of her to seek such things after her short-lived existence had been nothing but chaos and mayhem. But she was here now. Away from it all.

There was absolute silence and she would be able to listen to the sound of her thoughts until -

'Hey Witchy,' she heard from a distance.

She shivered, failing to hold on to the stream of her thoughts. She kept on forgetting she was not alone. That she would never be.

'Damon,' she acknowledged neutrally. 'Where have you been?'

'Wandering,' the raven-haired vampire said. 'And I must say, I'm beat.'

The young woman frowned, noticing Damon's shortened breath and dragging steps. He looked positively disheveled. His skin had reddened around the cheeks, and the vision disturbed her beyond words. She had seen him weak before, from ordeals that had threatened his life or the life of his rare loved ones. Never from too much walking. She had no idea he could be so...human.

'How far did you get?'

'I'm not sure,' he confessed, letting himself fall next to her. 'It just looks endless.'

Damon Salvatore disturbed Bonnie, in every sense of the word. She had always avoided paying too much attention to him. There was no reason to change that because they were the only members of the gang to have missed the wagon back to the land of the living.

This was her destiny from the start, she was sure of it. Looking back on her life as a supernatural being, it could not have possibly ended in a different way. Her decisions had doomed her and she had made her peace with that. Damon was nothing more than a last-minute change of plans – just like he always was.

'What's that smell anyway?' he groaned, wiping his nose with the back of hand.

It cost him to ask, she could tell. He was used to coercing favors out of her, but he was aware the power balance was not weighing in his direction anymore. She felt empowered by it; if Damon was under the impression she had things under control, then she must have.

'Salt water,' she said softly. 'It smells like the ocean here.'

The vampire grumbled. She looked down to him, her face expressionless.

'I hate the ocean.'

'This place was not meant for you.'

'But exactly, what is this place?' he said. 'Where are we and how do we get back?'

Bonnie sighed. She knew this moment would come; if anything, Damon Salvatore was resilient. Being here with him meant she'd never get silence, much less solace.

'I don't know, Damon,' she said.

'Well, you'll work something out,' he said.

'There is no way out of here,' she reasoned. 'We were on the Other Side and it fell apart. We should not even...exist.'

Damon heaved a deep sigh; his resignation from hours before had vanished as soon as he realized what it meant to remain here until...Hell, they did not even know how long this safe haven would welcome them. Judging by his condition – he was still trying to get his breathing back to normal – Bonnie feared she would make it longer than him.

'Why do we? Exist.'

'My Grams,' she said, grateful tears springing to her eyes. 'She did something.'

'Sheila...' he said, speaking her name with deference and annoyance at the same time. 'Of course. That explains why I feel like Hell. She probably made sure no other supernatural could stay here.'

'Maybe.'

"But since I'm not really alive, I'm guessing I can't really die."

"Maybe."

Damon said nothing for a while and despite the many hours she had spent preparing to accept her fate, Bonnie felt a pang of determination taunt her. Magic always had a loophole, she knew that much. Surely her Grams' enchantment - or whatever it was - had one too. A tiny, tiny crack that she could turn into a door if she could find it and knock hard enough.

'This is everything I'd have imagined my afterlife to be,' she said distractedly, not even speaking to Damon.

This was different from the day she died. It was…quieter. There was nothing here and it was liberating. No more study books to burden her tired mind, no more sweat pants to go running and try to lose the weight she put on because of stress eating. No more phone to keep her connected to the ever-lasting drama of Mystic Falls. No more television to feel the world's pain.

Nothingness was a relief.

"Everything is perfect," she said, shaking her head.

She wasn't sure time was still a relevant unity measure to go by, but it had been only a few hours since they held hands, ready to be taken away. Since then, Damon had been exceptionally friendly with her, even though they had spent the past years more or less always on the outs. It was convenient, though; she didn't have one ounce of fight left in her.

Damon coughed, breaking the spell once more.

"With the notable exception of your presence."

He snorted and nudged her teasingly. She noticed he limited his movements to a minimum and wondered if he was too proud to let his fear show or if his body was giving him trouble. She didn't ask. She didn't want to start caring; she'd done her fair share as the problem-solver.

'Where's the replica of Little Gilbert?' he asked. 'You wouldn't want to spend eternity alone.'

'I would, actually.'

'Please,' Damon huffed. 'You do not exist without your friends.'

"You don't know who I am, Damon."

She met his gaze and saw the moment he understood. She truly was satisfied with aloneness. His face became more serious, grave even. She gave him a shy smile, refusing to look away. There was no shame in feeling the way she did.

'You stopped existing because of them,' he whispered.

'For them,' she corrected. 'I made a conscious choice to put the people I love first. And don't smirk at me because the exact same decision brought you here.'

Damon sat up, and she felt him grow uncomfortable. Ashamed, even. She really had seen it all now, she thought.

"You're a hero, Bonnie Bennett," Damon said. 'We're not the same. Never were, never will be.'

She didn't argue. He had had his despicable days, there was no denying that. There was also no denying the drastic transformation he had gone through upon falling in love with her best friend. The thought of Elena burned a tiny hole in Bonnie's chest, but the feeling merely lasted half a second.

There was no place for sorrow here.

'I never thought we'd be stuck,' Damon said. 'I was sure you'd figure it out.'

'Sorry for letting you down.'

A laugh passed his lips and she lost herself in the contemplation of the luxuriant trees and bushes in the distance.

'How are we supposed to live here?' he said, his voice eager and determined again.

"We're not," she said. "You said it yourself, we're not alive."

'I've been _not alive_ for decades," he said nonchalantly. "I still need a top notch bed, Bourbon and a few pretty students to sink my teeth in.'

Bonnie shook her head with a smile. That was the obnoxious Damon she knew. And she realized now that his constant sarcasm wasn't so bad after all. He had managed to make her laugh.

'That's not funny.'

'It's actually hilarious,' she insisted.

She closed her eyes, remembering every time she had walked into the Salvatore boarding house to find Damon in front of the fireplace, facing away from her with a glass of amber liquor in his hand. Granted, a (temporary or not) dead body was often decorating the carpet, but those moments had stuck with her.

She could feel the distinctive smell of alcohol filling her nostrils now; see the liquid catch the light and project golden reflections all around. She was pretty sure Damon's glasses were made of crystal; Elena had made fun of his posh tastes, once.

'What the-'

Bonnie jumped out of her thoughts, her heart racing. She was too accustomed to fear. The feeling went as quickly as the thought of Elena and she regained her serenity when she saw Damon smirking at her.

'Looks like I'm the only one losing my juice,' he said, pointing to the grass in front of him.

An incredulous laugh passed Bonnie's lips when she noticed the bottle of Boubon and the two glasses. They had materialized out of nowhere. Out of her thoughts, to be exact.

'Is it me or did you just summon that with your mind?'

Bonnie tried thinking about her last conversation with her grandmother. Had she hinted at anything? She was too preoccupied to notice, at the time. She shrugged. Remembering her last conversation with Sheila would open the door to the other last conversations she'd had, and it just didn't sit well with her.

There was only the here, and the now.

'Try something else,' Damon said. 'The Bennett special.'

She shot him a questioning glance.

'The aneurism?'

Bonnie laughed and focused the way she used to. She habitually channelled her anger to use defensive hexes or spells. She found she had none left. Damon opened one eye.

'I can't,' she said. 'It's not working.'

'That's rich,' he said. 'I appreciate the drinks, but if my vampire strength is _persona non grata _in Bonnieland, it would be convenient if you could take down attackers.'

'You don't understand,' Bonnie said as she began putting the pieces back together. 'I won't need to, because there won't be any attacker. This...this is a safe place for me. For us.'

A moment passed during which she became convinced of her theory. If she could wish things she wanted to existence, why would there be anyone out there to harm her? She could wish them into the void. Her Grams had taken care of everything, just like she always had. Her Grams was the only person she was ever able to rely on.

Damon poured them a drink each and she accepted. She had never been one to find comfort or courage in liquor but hadn't she earned a bit of fun?

"Can I get a cigar?" Damon asked.

Bonnie laughed, suddenly intoxicated by the moment.

She summoned the best cigar she could think of, a Cuban. It appeared already cut, ready to be lit. She smiled when Damon blew out a cloud of smoke. That was the only cloud she would ever see again. She had left the bad behind. If she had anything to do with it, the Sun would never stop shining.

'To my favorite witches of all time,' Damon enunciated, sliding his arm around her shoulders. 'Sheila and Bonnie Bennett, who make a guy's _after_ afterlife one Hell of a ride.'

The young witch shook her head but clinked glasses with him. She'd have to reckon with Damon from this moment forward and she figured it could have been worse.

_tbc…_

**I'm back! I'm not sure how long it's been since I published a TVD story but are you truly surprised that the WTF Bamon finale brought be back? I come to you with a collection of moments from their existence after 5x22. It might turn into one of those collection of drabbles and one-shots that don't truly make a story but I'm very excited to be reunited with you all. If you have suggestions or requests, send them my twitter Honeeym, it'll be fun. Much love x**


	2. Losing Your Mind

**Losing Your Mind**

'I'm starting to forget,' Damon said, breaking the silence.

Bonnie almost welcomed the intrusion in her quietness, used to it by now. She was sitting on a chair by the window, her knees brought up to her chest. Raindrops outside were lulling her to a state of near-sleep. Watching the peaceful landscape did more than appease her; it made her serene. She stared at the infinity of this world, _her _world, and found it beautiful.

'Are you trying to make conversation?' Bonnie said distractedly.

'What do you think?'

'I think we've never talked to each other unless we had to.'

'We are now,' he said.

There was a bite in his voice that she had heard before. _Please, no, _she thought.

'What?' she said against her better judgment. 'What are you forgetting?'

'Things,' Damon huffed. 'Does it matter?'

'Yes.'

He finally stopped fumbling around the spacious living room.

She had retreated to the window partially to shield herself from the turmoil emanating from him. After she'd built them a house vast enough to host ten people, having her summon caviar and fancy treats had gotten real old, real fast; he had been troubled for days now. But he was still Damon; talking about his problems was like pulling out his teeth, raw. So she mostly ignored him, trying to stay away from his negative energy.

It was actually the first words they'd spoken to each other in two days.

'Some things, you're better off without,' she said, final.

'It's not just that,' he said. 'I feel different.'

'Different, how?'

Damon sighed.

'Don't you ever – think about Jeremy?'

Bonnie was surprised to hear the name. Damon's habit for nicknames kept the reality of Jeremy Gilbert at a safe distance; she almost felt cheated now.

'No,' she said, almost not lying.

'You're freaking me out, Judgy.'

'Do I want to ask why?'

'Because you sound so cold that even _I _find it creepy.'

It was Bonnie's turn to sigh.

'I told you. I was ready and willing. I'm not wasting my time looking back.'

Damon shook his head as if she had gone insane.

She felt sorry for him. Sorry that he was stuck with her when they had never seen eye to eye. Sorry that he could not bring himself to get onboard with her decision to enjoy the unlikely event of cheating death once again. Sorry that he could not see how this was a rebirth. Sorry that he wanted something she could not give him.

He crossed the room and came to sit on the couch, kicking off his shoes and putting his feet on the coffee table. Bonnie _tsk_ed at him; she hated when he did that. The traces he left on the glass drove her insane.

'Toxic,' he said after she had resumed looking outside. 'I told her our relationship was toxic.'

Bonnie said nothing. He had been right. Although she could testify to Damon and Elena's love, it was clear for everyone to see that they would destroy each other eventually. But she kept her thoughts to herself, refusing to hurt him unless necessary.

'When you're caught up in something like that…' he continued. 'I guess the only thing you can do is walk away.'

'There's strength in leaving, Damon.'

'Well, now I'm gone for good, aren't I?'

'And you're forgetting,' Bonnie said. 'It's good. It's best.'

'Hurts like a real bitch,' he snorted, kicking the coffee table with his foot like a boy.

Bonnie couldn't help laughing when he howled in pain upon hurting himself. Watching him adjust to the decrease of his strength was a rather entertaining show.

'I know.'

'You're right,' he said. 'I'm better off.'

'If you don't let go, you'll lose your mind.'

….

Bonnie opened her eyes. Something was unusual, she knew it. Worry was no longer part of her range of emotions, but she was bothered by the unbalance. She took a deep breath and pushed the sheet away from her body, walking to Damon's part of the house. She could hear him in his bedroom, breathing heavily.

A shiver ran through her. She looked outside; the moon was shining its silver light high in the sky. The wind from earlier in the day had shushed to a mere whisper. Peace, everywhere, as usual.

She invited herself into Damon's room, pushing the door as quietly as possible. There was a certain awkwardness to invading his private space like that, but if she'd learned anything since their arrival here, it was to never question her instinct. And it was telling her something was off.

She had never seen what he had done with the room; she was unsurprised to find it looked like the descriptions Elena and Caroline had given of his…former bedroom. That relatively annoying fact gave her the nerve to enter completely.

Damon was on the left side of his gigantic bed, lying on his back, his body bare from the waist up. His irregular breathing was making his chest rise and fall erratically. Bonnie accepted defeat and let a tiny piece of apprehension take over her. He couldn't possibly have gotten sick, could he? It had to be something else.

'Damon?' she called.

His head snapped in her direction and she was stunned by the horror in his eyes.

'You cursed me,' he spat.

'Excuse me?'

'You said I'd lose my mind,' he hiccupped. 'And now I feel it. You did this to me!'

'What do you feel, Damon?' she said, cautious about her choice of words – feelings were always a touchy subject around him.

'Their pain,' he said through gritted teeth. 'It's killing me.'

Bonnie frowned. The concept of pain altogether had become foreign to her and she worked hard to keep it that way. She had experienced nothing like that since they had arrived. On the contrary; her mind had never been so rested. She felt like she had a clear head on her shoulders for the first time since the death of Elena's parents. She had nothing to worry about – so why was Damon plagued with feelings?

'Whose pain?' she said, sitting on the edge of the bed next to him.

'They're all here,' he said, clawing at his skin where his heart was. 'Stefan, Elena, Enzo. All of them.'

Bonnie sighed and conjured a bowl of cold water and a cloth. Damon was burning up. She was utterly unprepared for something like this. Hadn't she left the bad behind? Why was it always trying to catch up with her?

Sometimes, it was alright to mope and feel sorry for yourself. But not this time. She wanted none of it. She had other aspirations for herself and, surprisingly, for him, too. Bringing up the past would do her no good. Every time she was disturbed by a memory, she pushed it back where it belonged. In the void.

'You need to calm down,' she soothed, applying the cold cloth to his forehead. 'You have to.'

'I can't,' he shouted. 'Make it stop.'

'It's not me, I promise,' she said.

Maybe she had been too dismissive earlier, and his subconscious was finding ways to speak up. Maybe he simply needed to voice his thoughts. A jolt of guilt broke through her armor of Zen.

'Tell me what you feel.'

Damon looked like he was drowning; his struggle was perceptible in every word he said. Bonnie listened despite herself.

She didn't want to know if Jeremy had withdrawn into silence. She didn't want to hear about the tears Caroline cried every day. She didn't want to find out that Elena was unable to let her loved ones out of her sight without suffering vicious anxiety attacks. She didn't want to deplore Stefan's denial, that was dangerously alienating him from reality.

But she knew, now.

When Damon stopped talking, she stopped mopping his brow and, without a word, lay down beside him. Try as she might, there was no ignoring his distress. She slid her hand into his.

'I don't know what's happening to me,' he whispered.

'They're sticking with you because you're holding on to them,' she explained.

'I don't want to feel like this,' he said, his voice heavy.

'But you _need_ to,' she said with the patience of a mentor. 'I've been thinking about it, and I think this place gives you what you need.'

Damon's face contorted into a pitiful expression of outrage.

'So you get to _Accio _anything you _want_ and I'm stuck with this? Amazing. I think I liked my miserable life on Earth better.'

The young witch smiled in the semi-darkness.

'Stop talking about the past,' she instructed.

'What about the future, then?' he said stubbornly. 'How long am I going to be like this? What happens next?'

How many times did shehave to tell him? From what she gathered, their presentwould renew itself eternally. They had no past and no future. The sooner Damon understood that, the better for both of them. She could not keep pulling him towards the light if he was fighting to remain lost in darkness.

'I don't know everything,' she admitted. 'But there is only here and now.'

'Time isn't going to just make it go away,' Damon said.

Bonnie heard the subtle change in his voice. For a second, she was aware that he was bared to her in the most unusual way. She was discussing emotions, grief and loss with Damon Salvatore in the middle of the night. For some reason, she appreciated that it was a rare moment.

'Let go of them and you won't suffer anymore,' she encouraged. 'It may take a while, but you'll get there.'

'What do we do until then?'

'I'll stay,' she offered. 'Suffer with you.'

Damon snorted, and she could have sworn he was on the verge of tears. She held his hand tighter, trying to steady the tremor shaking him. It was obvious he wanted to inch away from her, but he couldn't bring himself to.

'You'll forget about this,' she promised – to both of them. 'All of it.'

'I don't want to forget,' he said. 'I was _loved_. I can't forget.'

She turned to face him. He imitated her, and she brought her other hand to his cheek, hoping he could channel some of her inner tranquility. He needed her. It was then that she gave up on the foolish idea that she didn't care.

_tbc_

**Author's Note: Oh, I just love that feeling when you start a new fic. I'm definitely sticking to the fragmented thing, it's been working quite well for me. There will be elements of magic linked to where they are, as you've glimpsed here and I'll try to develop that as I go. Thoughts, everyone? Who wants Damon to let go of his past, and who'd rather Bonnie did everything she could to get them back to Mystic Falls? See ya soon xx**


	3. You and I

**You and I**

Bonnie stirred softly, aware that she was not in her own bed. She felt Damon's body beside hers and remembered the events from the night before. Keeping still, she listened to the sound of his breathing and found it regular and peaceful. He didn't sound like he was hurting anymore.

She opened her eye, finding herself face to face with him. His traits were relaxed, and she let out of the breath she'd been holding all night. She'd have trouble shaking his glistening eyes from her memory. She'd suffered with him most of the night, trying to soothe him like you'd soothe a feverish child.

Now that he looked like himself again, she could try to help him.

'Creep,' Damon mumbled, his eyes still closed.

Bonnie shook her head; she always forgot that he was still a vampire, with the super senses that came with the state. She faintly wondered if that would go away.

He opened his eyes and smirked at her.

'I know I'm gorgeous but you're staring.'

'Come with me,' she said, disengaging herself from his hold.

Damon sat up, apparently amused to have woken up next to her. She shook off the awkwardness of the situation, grabbed one of his leather jackets from a chair and wrapped it around her body, walking on her toes on the way out, like a ballerina.

The grumbling mess that had become of him followed her outside, not bothering to put on a shirt. She stopped a few feet away from the house. The grass was greener here than she had ever seen; she appreciated the liveliness coming from the flamboyant green. It kept her hope just as bright.

'Are you gonna curse me again because I snore?' Damon asked.

'I told you I didn't do anything,' she said with an exasperated smile. 'But I'm going to, now.'

Damon frowned and she nodded to reassure him. She held her two palms over the ground and closed her eyes. It felt strange to perform magic without spells, but she was starting to get the hang of it. If she visualized what she wanted to conjure up and focused hard enough, she managed it effortlessly. It was probably what she enjoyed most about magic here; it didn't drain her anymore.

She could feel Damon's eyes on her; she wished she had stopped by her room to put on sweat pants of some sort. She squeezed her eyes shut together and returned to her preoccupation. She heard him gasp when the ground began to shake lightly. She turned her hands upwards and rose them above her head.

She opened her eyes and turned to Damon.

'For you,' she said, solemn.

He stared at the bed of white roses, frowning. She waited for him to understand, because she wasn't keen on rehashing their late night conversation. She followed his gaze as he finally seemed to count the flowers. She could see him mouth the names as he went, uttering them with deference even for those he had seemed to value so little.

_Stefan, Elena, Alaric, Enzo, Jeremy, Liz, Caroline, Matt, Tyler._

'There are two extras,' he remarked.

'I know,' Bonnie said. 'You and I.'

Damon paused, contemplating the deeper meaning of her words. He was obviously struggling with a lot, and Bonnie figured she should give him a little push in the right direction. Just like her Grams had done for her. She was farther down the road of acceptance, but that didn't mean she couldn't pause and wait for him.

She understood that, if she wanted to find the peace her Grams had sacrificed herself for, it meant helping Damon finding his as well. She couldn't figure out why they were together but he had become a part of her journey when they had entwined their fingers. They only had each other to rely on, now.

She conjured up gardening tools and handed them over to him. He took them immediately.

'Take care of them.'

'I thought witches were aces at gardening,' he objected. 'The whole privileged contact with Mother Nature thing and all that jazz.'

She said nothing and gave his arm a light squeeze before heading back to the house. She was hoping these flowers and what they represented would help his mind come to terms with their reality. The flowers would die eventually, she figured; hopefully, by then, Damon would have come to better sentiments.

….

'I figured it out,' Damon said after dinner.

Bonnie was clearing the table when he spoke and she felt another moment coming up. She had noticed the concentrated look on his face all day as he watered the flowers, wandered around the house, did push-ups and cooked dinner. His brain was on a constant loop.

She sat next to him.

'What this place does to me,' he said. 'I think I get it now.'

'Okay.'

'I started losing memories,' he reminded.

Bonnie remained silent.

'Then there was this bitching thing with all the feelings and it's stuck with me all day, even if it's manageable.'

'I wish I could help,' Bonnie said despite herself; old habits die hard.

'I'm losing track of time, now,' he informed, unfazed by her intervention.

'What? Since when?'

He pointedly rolled his eyes and Bonnie put her hand in front of her mouth, embarrassed that she'd talked before she'd thought.

'Sorry,' she said. 'Stupid question. You don't know, of course.'

Damon gave her a half smile.

'I think you were right. It was what I needed.'

'Does it help?'

There was a moment of silence. Bonnie kept her eyes fixated in front of her, praying for the answer to be yes. If he was losing track of time, he wouldn't be able to count to days until he returned to Mystic Falls. If his memory was confused, he wouldn't even be aware there was a reason to return. He was free to stop worrying about the future and to form new memories.

'Were you one of those teenagers who lived with her phone glued to her hand?' Damon said.

'Kind of,' she confessed. 'I checked it every five minutes.'

'Did you ever turn it off?'

'Not often,' Bonnie said. 'But it was liberating when I did.'

'That's how I feel when I get a break from the grief show in my head' he said, nodding. 'Even though I'm not sure how long we've been here or when it was that I met Elena for the first time.'

'Do you want to know?' she asked. 'How long it's been?'

'No,' he said. 'I guess it doesn't matter anymore.'

Bonnie turned to face him, shocked at his words. He had been giving her a different vibe all day, but she had no idea he was changing so deeply. Let alone so fast. He kept talking about what escaped him and what he lost, but he looked more peaceful.

Bonnie couldn't help her grin. She put her hand on his arm.

'You don't care?'

He shook his head.

'Sheila's voodoo worked on me, even if she _had _to give me Hell along the way,' he said. 'I needed to see sense and now I do.'

'Okay…' Bonnie said, sure of whether she should congratulate herself just yet – it was too brutal.

'I'm basically standing at a crossroads,' he said, his body emphasizing his words. 'On the left, there's everything you've been telling me to let go of. Elena, Stefan…Ric and Enzo. They are the only people who've ever cared about me. I miss them.'

Bonnie didn't say anything.

'And on the right, there's this and you,' he continued, gesturing around them. 'And we're not going back. Ever.'

'You got that right,' she sighed. 'We're not.'

Damon got up and turned on the kettle for Bonnie's tea. He never shared it with her, but he warmed the water for her most evenings. She appreciated the attention; it was a kind, disinterested gesture. That alone should have told her something was changing.

When he came back, he sat in front of her.

'I don't wanna screw this up,' he said, looking down. 'I'm done screwing things up.'

Bonnie gave him a small smile.

'You…have a heart,' she said. 'Feelings. Doubts. Fears.'

'Don't sound so surprised, it's insulting.'

The kettle whistled and he got up and went to retrieve it. Bonnie's eyes followed him and she looked at him differently, with a kind of amazed incredulity. In many respects, she was playing house with Damon and she liked it. She liked the ordinariness of their days here.

'Thanks,' she said when he brought her a fuming mug and a bag of lime tea with one sugar. 'I just meant that you did a great job at concealing your soft side so far. You've kept it all inside for so long that I wasn't sure you still knew how to be…normal.'

'Please, I'm not normal,' he huffed. 'I'm an undead vampire non-living the sweet life in a place that doesn't exist. I'm anything _but_ normal.'

'How does that make you feel?'

Damon gently nudged her.

'Don't shrink me, Bennett,' he said. 'We're not gonna start braiding each other's hair just because I have feelings.'

Bonnie shook her head with a small laugh.

'Wearing your heart on your sleeve looks good on you, Damon,' she said, getting to her feet.

'Whatever you say,' he snorted.

The young witch halted on her way up the stairs. She turned around to find Damon lost in his thoughts already. She had to keep him out his head.

'How would you feel about a trip to the beach tomorrow? Will you drive?'

He shrugged.

'Is there even a beach here? And a car? Can you get me _my _car?'

'Yes to all three if I want to.'

Damon shook his head at the mischievous glint in her eyes.

'It's the first thing you've asked me since we got, here,' he said. 'We're going.'

'Good night, Damon.'

'You too, Bonnie.'

_**tbc**_

**Author's Note: Hey everyone! Thank you for your reviews and your input on the story. We'll follow Damon and Bonnie on their trip to the beach so that you get a better sense of how the place is affecting him, then we'll proceed to small time jumps. What did you think of this chapter? Let me know everything xx **


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